There is Chaos.
Disaster, distruction, mayhem.
Crayon on the walls, yogurt in the carpet. Piles of forgotten toys. Dust on the cabinets and windowsills.
In every direction, there is filth.
The dishes from last nights dinner are still on the table. A basket of clean laundry is forgotten by the stairs, left alone to wrinkle. A wet diaper has somehow missed the bin. How long has it been since someone vacuumed? Impossible to tell.
The mess is never-ending, overwhelming, unrelenting.
But within this mess, there is also joy.
Imagination, beauty, fun.
Smiles on faces, stains on shirts. Favorite toys dragged lovingly in every direction. Light streaming through dusty windows. Fingerprints and fingerpaints. A half empty sippy-cup. A sock with no mate.
Without a doubt, children live here.
The dishes must be washed… but they will wait. The laundry will keep, and the diapers will eventually find the bin.
The little hands, little voices, little faces; they will not last. Instead, the moments given and time taken freely, set aside from worry and stress will be remembered.
And no one will look back and care whether or not the house was truly clean.
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I welcome and would love constructive criticism! Feel free to leave in comments. Thank you for reading!
